The night was cool and calm, the wind gently caressing the needle laden branches around the solitary figure in the woods. Garbed in his grey dress uniform, Jo stood quietly in the tree line near the edge of the Academy Physical Readiness Training field. The flickering light from the small bonfire burning on the field filtered through the trees, casting everything beyond the line of conifers into ever-shifting shadow. Through the branches he could see the three departments of his division; the Merces Letifer, the Couriers Department, and the support staff of the Hand of the Sennin.
’So few…’ The small group had once been broken up into three separate formations, but once he knew how small the Division actually was, he ordered the departmental heads to bring them together into a mass formation four ranks deep. ”Hmph…” he scoffed at the thought of the three “departmental leaders.” With the total group numbering at less than 100, Jo had nearly dismissed them from their positions, but had thought better of it. Micromanaging was a surefire way to wear himself out faster than he had before. He had to learn to let things go and to trust his subordinates with he tasks he had assigned them.
Another sarcastic “hmph” nearly escaped his lips, but he bit I back. If the shinobi before him were up to the task, they certainly weren’t showing it. Their dress uniforms were slovenly (did none of them own a ruler or brass polish?), they couldn’t stand still in formation to save their lives, and he was about 90% sure half of them hadn’t done any physical training since they left the Academy. There was going to be plenty of work to do, and Jo was ready to get on with it. So, without further ado, he stepped forward from the shadows and approached the wooden podium usually used by the Academy instructors to run PT in the mornings.
The shinobi heading the formation quickly called the group to attention, at which point all movement and talking abruptly ceased. As Jo stood atop the PT stand, the company leader (who didn’t know he was about to be demoted from heading the couriers department shortly), ordered everyone to present arms. The entire group rendered a sharp salute to the man on the podium. ’They might have some potential after all, once we get them squared away anyhow…’ The soon-to-be-demoted man executed an about face (in the wrong direction, by the way) and saluted Jo, who saluted him back in impeccable military manner. The man then executed another about face (to the right side this time? A little consistency would be nice!) and gave the command to order arms.
”At ease.” Jo said, his voice reflecting the manner that a father would have when he’s disappointed in his children for misbehaving. He waited a moment for the group to settle into the new position before beginning. ”Well, I’m not going to sugar-coat it. This is the smallest, sloppiest, most undisciplined group of shinobi I have ever seen.” The crowd seemed collectively taken aback by his bluntness. ”However, I cannot blame you for being in this state. You’ve been too long without a leader, without guidance, without direction. This is my fault, and you have my most sincere apologies.
“Some of you may be wondering why we’re here. Not why we’re having this conversation, but why we’re here on the PRT field at the Academy. Normally, our Division is shrouded in darkness and mystery. Why, then, would we be standing in the middle of an open field next to one of the busiest buildings in the village? I chose this place for a reason. All of us were trained here at the beginning of our shinobi careers. For all of us, this is where our story started.
“Today, I am here to tell you that we, as a Division, are experiencing a new beginning. A new Raikage, a new Sennin, a new Hand; well, relatively speaking. I did get a few months of experience leading you before taking my leave of absence. We, as a group, are going through a new chapter in our lives. We aren’t everything that we could be, that we should be. To get to where we need to be, to the point that we can fulfill our duties to Kage and Village, we will have to work. Just like the blood, sweat, and tears we shed on this very field, we will have to sacrifice and toil hard at becoming what we were always meant to be; the right hand of the Sennin. When something needs to be done that cannot and will not be traced back to our village, the Sennin will call upon the Merces Letifer; and you will answer that call. When word needs to be spread, and messages vital to the survival of our home need to be disbursed, the couriers will deliver; regardless if their missive need only travel a few blocks from the office, or through a combat zone on the other side of the world. When threats to our national and global security are breaking down our door, killing our citizens, and attacking our Kage,” The last statement rousing a vicious growl from the crowd in the light of the death of Hayata Shin. ”The Sennin will call for her Hand to deal with the threat, and I will answer, along with those who would fight beside me.
“That being said; there will be many changes to the Division as far as how we operate. My support staff will circulate the necessary memorandums detailing these changes, on Monday. They will include the implementation of stricter physical fitness and combat testing… for all departments.” He menaced at the chubby desk-jocks of his support staff. ”Remember, we are shinobi, and our primary occupation is as a combatant. If you cannot survive the rigors of the battlefield, you will not be serving with this division. I will also be implementing a new uniform standard. The days of suits and alluringly tempting mini-skirts are over.” A mixed sound of cheerful exclamations from the females and dejected groans from the males rippled through the crowd at the announcement of ending Takaki Masao’s slightly perverted mini-skirt policy. ”While you are in the office, the attire will be our standard SCU’s,” the Shinobi Combat Uniform consisted of granite-grey fatigues and slate-grey body armor and Kumo forehead protector, as well as certain regulation footwear and other accessories. ”While you are in the field, the uniform will vary depending on your mission. Details will be posted on Monday, and the Merces Letifer Regulations will be updated as soon as possible. You will also be getting a refresher course on standard drill-and-ceremony, as some of you seem to have forgotten everything you learned at the Academy.
“With all these changes, one thing remains the same. We are shinobi of Cloud. We are the epitome of everything it means to be a ninja. We will maintain the greatness that brought our village into the upper echelons of international power; and we will strive to become everything we were meant to be. Let us strive to achieve the greatness that we are destined to share.
“Walk with the Shadows.”
Upon uttering the Division Motto, the formation repeated it; a hundred voices blending together in a muted roar. Some were excited about the changes that were about to take place, some were skeptical, some were afraid of and rejected change all together. Those who could not adapt would be removed, those who could would remain; and those who excelled would become the villages next group of leaders. Jo knew not what road lay ahead for his division, but he knew it would either rise to the occasion, or die trying.
{TLUS}{MFT}
’So few…’ The small group had once been broken up into three separate formations, but once he knew how small the Division actually was, he ordered the departmental heads to bring them together into a mass formation four ranks deep. ”Hmph…” he scoffed at the thought of the three “departmental leaders.” With the total group numbering at less than 100, Jo had nearly dismissed them from their positions, but had thought better of it. Micromanaging was a surefire way to wear himself out faster than he had before. He had to learn to let things go and to trust his subordinates with he tasks he had assigned them.
Another sarcastic “hmph” nearly escaped his lips, but he bit I back. If the shinobi before him were up to the task, they certainly weren’t showing it. Their dress uniforms were slovenly (did none of them own a ruler or brass polish?), they couldn’t stand still in formation to save their lives, and he was about 90% sure half of them hadn’t done any physical training since they left the Academy. There was going to be plenty of work to do, and Jo was ready to get on with it. So, without further ado, he stepped forward from the shadows and approached the wooden podium usually used by the Academy instructors to run PT in the mornings.
The shinobi heading the formation quickly called the group to attention, at which point all movement and talking abruptly ceased. As Jo stood atop the PT stand, the company leader (who didn’t know he was about to be demoted from heading the couriers department shortly), ordered everyone to present arms. The entire group rendered a sharp salute to the man on the podium. ’They might have some potential after all, once we get them squared away anyhow…’ The soon-to-be-demoted man executed an about face (in the wrong direction, by the way) and saluted Jo, who saluted him back in impeccable military manner. The man then executed another about face (to the right side this time? A little consistency would be nice!) and gave the command to order arms.
”At ease.” Jo said, his voice reflecting the manner that a father would have when he’s disappointed in his children for misbehaving. He waited a moment for the group to settle into the new position before beginning. ”Well, I’m not going to sugar-coat it. This is the smallest, sloppiest, most undisciplined group of shinobi I have ever seen.” The crowd seemed collectively taken aback by his bluntness. ”However, I cannot blame you for being in this state. You’ve been too long without a leader, without guidance, without direction. This is my fault, and you have my most sincere apologies.
“Some of you may be wondering why we’re here. Not why we’re having this conversation, but why we’re here on the PRT field at the Academy. Normally, our Division is shrouded in darkness and mystery. Why, then, would we be standing in the middle of an open field next to one of the busiest buildings in the village? I chose this place for a reason. All of us were trained here at the beginning of our shinobi careers. For all of us, this is where our story started.
“Today, I am here to tell you that we, as a Division, are experiencing a new beginning. A new Raikage, a new Sennin, a new Hand; well, relatively speaking. I did get a few months of experience leading you before taking my leave of absence. We, as a group, are going through a new chapter in our lives. We aren’t everything that we could be, that we should be. To get to where we need to be, to the point that we can fulfill our duties to Kage and Village, we will have to work. Just like the blood, sweat, and tears we shed on this very field, we will have to sacrifice and toil hard at becoming what we were always meant to be; the right hand of the Sennin. When something needs to be done that cannot and will not be traced back to our village, the Sennin will call upon the Merces Letifer; and you will answer that call. When word needs to be spread, and messages vital to the survival of our home need to be disbursed, the couriers will deliver; regardless if their missive need only travel a few blocks from the office, or through a combat zone on the other side of the world. When threats to our national and global security are breaking down our door, killing our citizens, and attacking our Kage,” The last statement rousing a vicious growl from the crowd in the light of the death of Hayata Shin. ”The Sennin will call for her Hand to deal with the threat, and I will answer, along with those who would fight beside me.
“That being said; there will be many changes to the Division as far as how we operate. My support staff will circulate the necessary memorandums detailing these changes, on Monday. They will include the implementation of stricter physical fitness and combat testing… for all departments.” He menaced at the chubby desk-jocks of his support staff. ”Remember, we are shinobi, and our primary occupation is as a combatant. If you cannot survive the rigors of the battlefield, you will not be serving with this division. I will also be implementing a new uniform standard. The days of suits and alluringly tempting mini-skirts are over.” A mixed sound of cheerful exclamations from the females and dejected groans from the males rippled through the crowd at the announcement of ending Takaki Masao’s slightly perverted mini-skirt policy. ”While you are in the office, the attire will be our standard SCU’s,” the Shinobi Combat Uniform consisted of granite-grey fatigues and slate-grey body armor and Kumo forehead protector, as well as certain regulation footwear and other accessories. ”While you are in the field, the uniform will vary depending on your mission. Details will be posted on Monday, and the Merces Letifer Regulations will be updated as soon as possible. You will also be getting a refresher course on standard drill-and-ceremony, as some of you seem to have forgotten everything you learned at the Academy.
“With all these changes, one thing remains the same. We are shinobi of Cloud. We are the epitome of everything it means to be a ninja. We will maintain the greatness that brought our village into the upper echelons of international power; and we will strive to become everything we were meant to be. Let us strive to achieve the greatness that we are destined to share.
“Walk with the Shadows.”
Upon uttering the Division Motto, the formation repeated it; a hundred voices blending together in a muted roar. Some were excited about the changes that were about to take place, some were skeptical, some were afraid of and rejected change all together. Those who could not adapt would be removed, those who could would remain; and those who excelled would become the villages next group of leaders. Jo knew not what road lay ahead for his division, but he knew it would either rise to the occasion, or die trying.
{TLUS}{MFT}